


One Plus One Is Also One (Sometimes)

by justgotowisharder



Category: Larry Stylinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Broken Harry, Coming Out, Cuddling & Snuggling, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, M/M, Possessive Louis, Scared Harry, louis knows everything, louis loves harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 17:23:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2476253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justgotowisharder/pseuds/justgotowisharder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Dear Mrs. Sissy,” Anne read out loud and Harry only wanted the ground to swallow him up, “you asked me to write about my hero but I don’t have a hero, I have a superhero. Superheroes are better and have superpowers. My superhero is Louis Tomlinson.”</p><p>(Or the one where Louis Tomlinson isn’t really a superhero, but he’ll always do everything on his power to protect his baby Harry)</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Plus One Is Also One (Sometimes)

**Author's Note:**

> We all have someone who's kind of a superhero in our lives. Harry's superhero is louis. 
> 
> This fic is probably super silly but i felt like writing it. I needed a scared harry, i just... You know, I always find silly excuses to write fluffy stuff :)
> 
> Thanks to the lovely [Annawrites](http://archiveofourown.org/users/annawrites/pseuds/annawrites) for checking this one! x
> 
> Hope you enjoy it, or at least hope you smile at the end! :)
> 
> \- Lottie x

Harry Styles was sitting in the principal’s office with his mom, not knowing exactly if he had done something really bad or if he had done something really good.

The six-year-old boy snuggled in his chair and glanced at Anne, who was quickly typing a text message while they waited for the principal. His mom didn't seem angry, but Anne was rarely mad at Harry so it wasn't a big tell.

“Mom?” Harry asked quietly. Anne left her phone and turned to her son.

“Yes, honey?”

“Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry if I did,” he apologized, feeling his throat closing up at the thought of being yelled at.

“No, sweetie. You've been a perfect boy,” Anne reassured him, caressing his bouncy curls. Her touch made Harry way more comfortable. “We’re here because the principal organized an annual reunion for parents and their children.”

“Oh, okay.” Harry nodded and offered his mom a weak smile.

Anne kissed his forehead and smiled. Shortly after, the principal arrived at the office. Harry didn't like the principal because he thought he was a crazy man with a bulldog-like face and ugly clothes. He closed the door and sat on his desk in front of them.

“Mrs. Cox, Mr. Styles,” he said, opening up a brown folder.

Harry stared at the principal while he read the papers inside the folder. He knew the teachers put everything they thought about him in it and it made him swallow hard. He felt drops of sweat dripping down his forehead.

“Your son is an excellent student, Mrs. Cox,” the principal finally said, looking at Anne. “All teachers love him, he’s really kind.”

“I know. He’s a sweet boy,” Anne nodded, proud of Harry.

“From all his school works though,'' the principal continued. ''His literature teacher has chosen this one,” he said as he took a piece of paper from the folder, offering it to Anne.

Harry turned pale when he saw it. No, it was supposed to be a secret. He wrote it because his teacher swore that he would never read it, much less anyone else. He was fine if Anne knew about it but to read it? Moreover, the person the composition talked about…

No, Harry felt embarrassment filling his body. He wasn't supposed to rely so much on someone, to be so dependent on someone else, much less on the older boy.

“The teacher asked to write about who the children’s hero is and Harry wrote this,” the principal explained.

“Dear Mrs. Sissy,” Anne read out loud and Harry only wanted the ground to swallow him up, “You asked me to write about my hero but I don’t have a hero, I have a superhero.” His mom glanced at him and winked, which was a good sign. “Superheroes are better and have superpowers. My superhero is Louis Tomlinson.”

“Please, don’t tell Louis,” Harry pleaded with a weak voice. Anne raised her eyes at him and shook her head.

“If you don’t want to, sweetie, I won’t. But, can I read it?”

Harry nodded then, trusting his mom. “Yes, mommy, of course.”

Anne read the work in silence, smiling at some points and giggling at others. Harry was really proud of what he had written because he had just learned to write and he only wanted to write about Louis.

Louis and Harry have been best friends since forever because Jay, Lou's mom, was Anne’s best friend. The boy was pure light and pure happiness, and Harry was sure that deep inside his humanity, Louis was a superhero, with superpowers. If not, why could he protect him and make him so happy?

Not even his mom could make Harry as happy as Louis could.

“…and what I like the most about Louis is that all his superpowers only work with me. Because he says, his mission in life is to protect me. I don’t have a guardian angel, I have a superhero.” Anne finished reading and turned to Harry. Her eyes were teary and the smile on her face was really wide. “This is beautiful.”

“Leaving aside the sentimental part,” the principal added, nodding with the head. “The text has excellent grammar for a-six-year old boy, and it shows how big Harry’s imagination is. You have to work on it, Mrs. Cox, make sure he keeps it up.”

“I’m just glad my son has Louis.”

“I’m glad I have him too,” Harry muttered to himself, yet Anne heard him and smiled.

 

 

*

 

**Invisibility**

_(Because he made Harry invisible when he needed it the most)_

Louis Tomlinson was pitifully sat on the couch at Liam’s house with a beer grasped in his hand and his eyes locked on the curly- haired boy who was standing at the improvised podium that Zayn had built for the Karaoke.

He always thought Harry was beautiful, yet tonight he was prettier than usual. Lately, the twenty-one-year-old boy has developed a weird habit of wearing scarves around his long hair and half unbuttoned shirts showing his tattoos. He was a bit drunk, giggling and smiling at everybody, and then there was that thing which was telling Louis that maybe and just maybe, tonight could be the night.

Harry was wearing his nails painted in shiny pink.

Louis knew what it meant. He knew Harry far too well to know that he wasn't the straight guy he pretended to be at uni. He also knew he wasn't the strong and confident boy he made people believe he was.

Louis knew a Harry who liked to cuddle with him, kiss him on the cheeks randomly and hold his hand while they were in the house, with no reason but to feel the comfort and the safety that he knew only Louis could give him.

Louis knew that Harry liked guys; he didn't need anyone to make him understand.

“Heeeey!” Harry said, approaching the microphone. The people there turned to him, expecting to hear some knock-knock joke nobody would understand, but they would laugh anyway because it was Harry Styles and everybody wanted to like him. “Good night! Cheers for my good friend Liam!”

People started clapping and Liam raised his arms in the air, smiling proudly as he took a grand bow. Zayn, who was next to him, rolled his eyes and muttered something, making Louis laugh. He knew Zayn was moody, he didn’t like to party that much.

“I’d like to say something,” Harry finally said and his face dropped, turning serious. “Hum…Can I have your attention? Please?”

Louis settled on a small place on the couch and stared at his best friend. Harry was nervous as hell, he could see it. Most eyes on him were too drunk to notice anything, yet the green-eyed boy couldn’t stop glancing from his nails to the people there.

“Fucking a new pussy?” someone yelled and people laughed. Harry pursed his lips and shook his head sadly. Louis felt an urgent desire to punch the guy in the face, even more, to run towards Harry and cuddle him and kiss him endlessly.

“Don’t talk about girls like that,” he muttered.

A girl in the group asked, “Who was the girl that painted your nails, Harry?”

Louis felt his heart literally stop inside his chest. Harry’s green eyes ran from the girl to Louis, finally staring at him. The older boy nodded slowly, telling him in silent words that it was alright, and Harry took a deep breath.

“I…”

“I bet it was Taylor!”

“I never dated her,” Harry protested and his voice sounded extremely drowned. God, he was on the edge of tears. Louis stood up without really thinking, just pure instinct taking over, of protecting Harry and taking control of his body.

“Harreeeeeeeeh!” Someone yelled.

The folk started to laugh, Louis heard some joke about some girls and then something about someone called Paige. Everybody was laughing, everybody was too drunk, and Harry just dropped the microphone then and ran into Louis’ arms without adding a word.

Louis was already waiting for him, taking him in. He took his hand and moved him, guiding him among the people until he found an empty room.

“Here,” he said, pointing to the couch. They sat down.

Harry was bigger and taller than Louis, yet he had a particular way of curling his body to make himself a small ball so he could fit in Louis’s arms perfectly.

“Harry,” Louis muttered and pressed a soft kiss to Harry’s head. “Angel, it's fine. I’m here.”

Harry held back a sob; Louis knew he was trying really hard not to cry. Harry hated crying in front of people, not because he was weak, just because he didn't like to bother those he cared about.

“I don’t know why I’m crying.”

Louis closed his eyes and sighed loudly. They didn’t say anything for a while and Louis just drew circles across Harry’s back. He was tangled up in Harry's long limbs when Harry decided to talk.

“I’m sorry, Lou. I got upset so easy,” Harry muttered, poking his head up to stare at Louis, who was still holding him tightly.

“It’s fine, Haz,” Louis assured him and took advantage of the moment to kiss Harry on the tip of his nose.

Harry giggled; his eyes splotchy and wet. “Thanks for doing it.”

“Doing what, love?”

“Being my superhero.”

“Shut up, you idiot. I still can't believe you wrote that thing about me,” Louis said, sniggering like a child. “But now, do tell me, what did upset you, baby?”

Harry thought for a minute, staring at a blind point on Louis’s chin. Then he cuddled closer to him and shook his head.

''Nothing. I’m drunk. I don’t think.'' he said with a soft voice.

There they were again. Harry’s lies, not because he wanted to have them, it's just because he probably thought that Louis would leave him if he told him his deepest secret; A secret that Louis already knew.

“Sure? You can tell me anything, Haz. You know it.”

“I do,” Harry nodded and closed his eyes, enjoying the chance of being away from people’s eyes. “Can we sleep? Nobody is watching us.”

“No, Harry. Someone can walk in any time. I can’t prevent that. So, how about we go to my place instead?”

“Can’t,” Harry explained gloomily. “I have to stay for Liam. I promised him.”

Louis glanced at Liam by the open door. The lad was happily dancing with two random girls and having the time of his life. He sighed. He didn’t want to stay and Harry needed to go out and just be happy but he was too much of a good friend to do that.

“Okay. Do you mind if I stay here with you though?”

“Louis, really?” Harry said and rolled his eyes before kissing Louis’ cheek.

 

 

*

 

**Mind-Reading**

_(Because Harry doesn’t need words to talk with Louis)_

 

“Why would someone like Theo want to be gay?” Liam asked, honestly wondering. He was at Louis and Harry’s flat, where they usually spent Friday nights getting drunk and just being dumb. “I mean, he had all the girls.”

Louis knew pretty well; when you don’t want to talk about something, everyone seems suddenly interested in the subject. It wasn’t any different with Harry’s issue: without any explanation, all people around him want to talk about nothing but coming out.

He was in the kitchen making tea for his baby when the subject was brought up. He quietly approached the door, expecting to pass unnoticed.

He eyed Harry from where he stood, looking at him carefully from where he was sitting on the couch staring at his fingers, playing idly with one of the many rings he liked to wear.

“I’m not homophobic,” Liam continued, after taking a sip from his bottle of beer. "I'm not, I'm a friend of Lou and he's pretty gay... but Theo is a waste."

Zayn, who was leaning against the open window smoking a cigarette, threw it outside before walking towards his friends and taking a seat on the floor.

“I will never understand a guy who likes to have dicks in his ass,” Zayn said and Liam nodded.

Louis didn’t say anything; he almost could feel the discomfort off Harry’s body, squirmy he looked.

He knew their friends weren’t being mean on purpose. Louis was used to their jokes and opinions. Generally speaking, Louis was very carefree about being gay; he didn’t give a fuck about rude comments.

Their friends weren't pricks to annoy Harry, yet the effect their words had on the youngest boy was awfully big.

“Haz,” Louis muttered, trying to catch his attention, but Harry didn’t look up at him.

Of course, because Louis wasn’t supposed to know; Harry never spoke to anyone about it and Louis was supposed to believe in the straight-Harry-façade he showed to the world. Yet Louis wasn’t a regular one, he was Harry’s best friend and he knew everything about him.

“I think whatever they like to shove up their asses is none of our business,” Niall said and Louis wanted to kiss him. Thank God, someone with common sense.

“Yes, I know, yet I can’t understand it,” Zayn said and took out another cigarette. Harry, who was the one who complained when people smoked inside the flat, didn’t say anything, showing how affected he was at the moment.

“I will never understand fags.”

Louis swore he could hear Harry’s pleas for help; his manly and low voice asking for someone to stop mocking what he was and what he liked. He wasn't using words, but Louis could hear him anyway.

Harry was silently screaming for someone to stop their friends from hurting him.

“Hey?” Louis interrupted and everybody raised their eyes at him. Even Harry. “Harry, sweetheart, let’s go and get some ice cream. I’m craving it.”

Liam took his chance to mock Louis, “Speaking about gays."

Zayn and Niall broke into laughter, Louis smirked too; yet Harry turned pale and grave, looking like he was dying inside.

Louis walked towards Harry, offering a hand. Their eyes met and he could see the desperation and sadness written across Harry’s green eyes.

“C’mon, H,” he encouraged and Harry quickly took his hand.

“Want money?” Niall asked, taking his wallet.

“Nah, I’ll pay. Someone wants a particular taste?”

 

The walk to the ice-cream parlor was silent and calm. It wasn't too late yet; there were people walking around, filling up the streets of London. Louis had to do his best to avoid taking Harry’s hand and walking together like that.

In the ice-cream parlor, they asked for the weirdest tastes they could find and Louis, after loads of bad jokes, finally made Harry giggle. They paid and then walked away.

Halfway home, Louis knew what Harry wanted.

“Haz—,” he said with a soft voice, stopping in the sidewalk. “If you don’t want to go back yet, we can go to the park.”

Harry looked up at him and gave him that weak yet lovely dimpled smile he made when he was upset.

“Yes, thanks, Lou,” he said. He approached Louis to give him a kiss on the forehead. Louis ignored the tightening of his heart. “I don’t like it when… They were so mean, you know? I don’t like menace.”

Harry was really careful not to say that he didn't like when people talked shit about who he was, and Louis respected that. Harry needed time and he didn’t have the right to deny him the time.

“I know, babe,” Louis nodded and couldn’t stop it any longer: he held Harry’s hand. Harry didn’t even cringe; he just intertwined their fingers and held Louis'. “I know. They don’t do it on purpose, though,” he made it clear but at the same time, felt bad to be talking about something without actually naming it. “They don’t know… yet.”

“I feel so bad sometimes,” Harry blurted and buried his face in the crook of Louis’ neck.

“You don’t have to,” Louis assured, squeezing Harry’s hand. “I love you, okay?”

“I love you too,” Harry replied and kissed his skin.

Louis wondered if Harry loved him, like… _Truly loved him_. The way someone did when they want to get married. He would never know though if Harry was unable to accept who he was.

“I still don’t understand how you know me so well,” the young boy said, raising his head. They started to walk again, slowly, hand in hand, enjoying the nice color of the night. “You can almost read my thoughts.”

“I can,” Louis teased, winking at him. “I have telepathy.”

Harry giggled and nodded in agreement. With his free hand, he started to play with his lower lip, thoughtful. Louis glanced at him in the corner of his eyes, wondering why the night light made Harry look so beautiful and angelic.

Maybe it was because Harry was indeed beautiful.

“Do you remember when we were young and I wrote that you were my superhero?”

Louis remembered it quite frequently, actually. “I do, love. I do remember.”

“You still are my superhero,” Harry confessed and Louis was sure he never wanted anything as much as he wanted to kiss him.

 

 

*

 

**Water Manipulation**

_(Because Louis knew what made Harry feel better)_

 

Things didn’t get any better. When the boys left Harry and Louis’s flat the following day, the younger boy locked himself inside his room and refused to leave it. Louis tried to make him go out to eat something, but Harry only said he wasn’t in the mood, apologizing to Louis for being such a bad flatmate.

Louis started to worry because he didn’t want Harry to fall apart for something as stupid as caring too much about other people’s judgments.

He knew coming out wasn't easy, his own coming out process hadn’t been the happiest and most natural of all. He actually had to change school and some people in Doncaster knew him as “the gay son of Jay”.

But life couldn’t be a nightmare just because a bunch of idiots couldn’t stand their lives so they insulted others to get rid of their frustrations.

At night, when it was clear that Harry wasn’t doing better yet, Louis decided to pamper him. He filled the bath with water and prepared a ridiculous bubble bath that Harry loved before calling for him at Harry’s door.

“Babe? Are you there?”

“I don’t want to eat, Lou. I’m sorry,” Harry’s weak voice replied.

“I’m not here for that. I just…do you remember what you told me yesterday? That I was your superhero?”

Louis heard Harry moving inside the room, and that gave him hope.

“Yes.” Harry’s voice was really close to the door now.

“Well, as a superhero I have water manipulation so I prepared you a warmth bath.”

Harry unlocked the door and seconds later, he faced Louis. He looked pretty shitty; his hair was dirty and messy, his bloodshot eyes puffy and wet, and his pretty lips were reddish and chapped (Louis wanted to kiss them though. _Forever_ )

“Hello, beautiful,” Louis said, smiling at him.

“’M not beautiful right now,” Harry said, rubbing his eyes.

“You’re always beautiful to me. Come here, dork. Let’s bath you.”

Harry had never shown any problem when it came to nakedness around Louis. He liked to be naked a lot, really, and Louis never said a nasty comment or an unfortunate remark about it, which made him feel safe.

That was why Harry didn’t say anything when Louis’s hands ran over his body, taking off his clothes, slowly and tenderly as no one had ever been with him before. The bathroom was submerged in the softest light, and Louis hummed while he undressed Harry.

“Now get in the bath, lovely,” Louis ordered him kindly. Harry held his hand and got into the tub. Louis saw how his expression softened and made a tiny moan when the warm water touched his skin. He ignored it, trying to think straight and not be controlled by the feelings growing inside his chest.

He would be lying if he didn’t accept that he had checked Harry out a lot of times. He had memorized every single part of Harry’s body, and the times he had wanked with thoughts of Harry’s rosy lips around his cock or Harry’s dick inside him were embarrassingly many.

“You won’t join me?” Harry asked when he was completely sunk in the water, eyeing Lou. Louis shook his head and caressed Harry’s soft cheeks with his hand. He closed his eyes and leaned into his touch.

He was pretty hard, and the vision of a wrecked Harry asking for more was something— well, something Louis needed to control if he wanted to take care of his baby.

“No, babe, tonight is all about you,” Louis whispered, ignoring the urge to take off his own clothes and get in the bath, to kiss Harry’s body until the end of times.

“Oh. Ok,” Harry accepted gruffly. “Pull my hair, Lou.”

Louis stood by the bath, sat on the floor, pulling at Harry’s curls the way he knew he liked it. Then, he washed his hair and kissed his cheeks maybe too many times, regretting that he couldn’t kiss his mouth instead.

But he didn’t want to do it, he didn’t want to kiss Harry and then force him to come out if he wasn’t ready.

When there were no bubbles left in the bath and the water started to get cold, Harry got out and wrapped his lanky body with a towel. He smiled at Louis and hugged him softly; Louis enjoyed the smell of Harry and vanilla soap wrapping him.

“I love you,” Louis said because he could stop himself from kissing Harry, but he couldn’t stop himself from confessing his feelings.

“I love you too.”

Louis guided Harry towards their room, where he took off his towel. Harry’s body was something made up in heaven to torture Louis on earth. He almost felt his hands aching with the urge to stroke that boy, to kiss him, to claim him as his.

“Can we cuddle tonight?” Harry whispered, and Louis swore he saw his cheeks turning red. “Like when we were younger?”

“Harry Styles is asking me for a cuddle?” Louis pretended to be surprised, which made his friend laugh.

“Yeeees.”

“You hadn't asked me for a cuddle in ages, Harold,” he said and he didn’t mean to sound like he was reprimanding him or something, yet it seemed to come off that way.

“Well, I’m asking now.”

“Ok, you child,” Louis accepted, and his eyes dropped to Harry’s dick for a brief second, a hot and burning sensation exploding inside his belly. “But put on some boxers, please.”

When Louis collapsed on bed, wrapped in Harry’s arms, he felt right.

They stared at each other for a while, love only being exchanged between gazes, and then Louis unconsciously leaned forward. Harry moved his head a bit, causing their foreheads to bump into each other and, for the very first time, their mouths ended up separated by a few, _killer_ inches.

Louis froze up, and Harry breathed into his mouth. He didn’t attempt to move forward. Their eyes met, and Louis was sure he saw it; he saw the adoration busting out, the need to kiss and be kissed away.

Harry didn’t kiss him.

Louis wasn’t sure if he could keep being a superhero for so long.

 

*

 

**Time Travel**

_(Because Harry needed a reminder)_

 

“What the hell are you looking for, Louis?”

Harry walked into Louis' room and found a complete mess there. A lot of papers, books and old stuff were spread across the floor while Louis was kneeling down inside his closet, trying to find something.

“Haz, hi,” Louis said without even turning to him. “I swear to God I have it here, somewhere—”

“Hum… can I help you?” Harry asked, walking among the sea of old things.

“No, no, just sit on my bed, babe.”

Harry frowned. He studied how Louis kept looking and looking inside a box. He finally nodded to himself and did as he was told, taking off his boots and sitting on bed.

“Lou,” Harry said after a while. His voice sounded embarrassed.

Louis stopped whatever he was doing and turned around, finding a red-faced Harry biting his lower lip.

“What?”

“Your bum.”

“What’s the matter with my ass?” Louis asked coyly, pleased to know that Harry was embarrassed because he was checking him out.

“Nothing. Just…your position is funny.”

“Funny or sexy?” Lois joked.

“Shut up, Louis.”

“I can’t help being sexy,” he said and winked at Harry before going back to business.

Harry collapsed on the bed, staring at the ceiling, and started to hum a love song while Louis did his work. The boy knew it was somewhere there; he had kept it because it was a reminder that it didn't matter what people say about you; you have to get better for yourself.

It made him strong.

“Got it!” he yelled when he found his old journal, the only one he had written in all his life.

“What were you looking for, Lou?” Harry muttered, sitting up on bed.

“This,” Louis answered, raising the journal in the air. He walked towards the bed and sat next to Harry. He quickly opened it, ready to show Harry what he wanted.

And he saw it.

It had been years since it happened, and Louis was sure he had gotten over it; yet seeing it again made him feel a little sad. He remembered those times when he tried to act strong and steady, while he was broken inside.

In one of the pages was written:

 

**TOMLINSON FUCKING FAGGOT**

 

After that message, all the pages were empty. Louis had stopped writing in his journal when the one who was supposed to be his friend, stole it to write those hurtful words.

“Lou? What does this mean?” Harry asked with a weak voice.

“This, love,” Louis said and his own voice gave him chills. He didn't realize he had been actually touched by those words. “With this, I wanted to show you that things aren’t always going to be bright and happy, you know. People are going to be mean to you, Haz and this,” he pointed to the words. “A fucking prick wrote this when I came out and it broke me. God, you don’t have any idea. But guess what, Harold? I got over it. I got over it because this is who I am. I don’t need anyone to tell me what I like or what I can’t like. And you, Harry Styles,” Louis said, facing a teary Harry, “Are beautiful, no matter whom you choose to love.”

Louis was fucking sure that he saw the little six-year-old Harry Styles coming back for a brief moment. Harry’s face suddenly turned younger and softer, as if for a moment, all the pressure and prejudice that were holding him back had disappeared.

"Lou, baby, this is horrible. Why would someone want to hurt you? Why you never told me this when it happened?"

Harry was an angel of a boy; Louis thought. Even when it had happened years ago, he cared about him, about his well-being.

"I don't care, babe. I didn't want to worry you, that's why I didn't say anything," he explained, cracking a half smile, but Harry was still upset. "H, this is not the point. I wanted you to know that some people won't like you, and they'll try to bring you down. But you don't have to care about it, babe. Please, focus on you. Focus on your happiness, you deserve it."

All Louis wanted was Harry's happiness, for Harry to understand that whoever he loved, it was fine.

"Regarding this," he said, pointing to the writing again, "Why do they care if I like dicks in my ass? Why do they care if I'm a cocksucker?"

"Lou!" Harry exclaimed.

"I'm just saying, Haz. I'm just trying to tell you that… If I like guys is no one’s business but mine."

"Are you trying to tell me that I'm gay?" Harry stuttered awkwardly, looking down.

Louis would have loved to say yes, to ask Harry if those feelings he had inside were shared, if he ached whenever they were apart, if his world fell down every time he was down. He didn't.

"I'm not saying anything, sunshine; I'm just trying to let you know that you can always be yourself. You're always gonna be my beautiful Haz."

Harry looked at him and nodded shyly. He got closer to him and hugged him tightly. Louis enjoyed the way Harry's arms wrapped around him and held him like no one else before.

"What did I do to deserve you?" Harry muttered.

"Oh, Harry, don't start with that crappy thing about deserving someone. Leave it to the shitty movies," Louis said, annoyed. "You got me and I got you, and that's all that matters.”

 

 

 

 

*

 

**Melting**

_(Because Harry and Louis liked to pretend they were the same person)_

 

 

“Look, Stan, I’m actually flattered that you want to fuck me, but I don’t want to,” Louis said to his drunken friend.

Stan had insisted to have a sleepover at Louis’s flat because he missed him; and everything turned up to be a mess. Stan drunk, trying to touch Louis and a Louis who had turned grumpy and pesky because he didn't want Stan.

“Come on, Louis,” Stan pleaded and laughed stupidly, approaching Louis. He rested a hand on Louis’s thigh. Louis needed to kick his ass out the flat. “You can call me Harry if that makes it better.”

“Shut up,” Louis said irritably. “Stop touching me, dick.”

“I know you need to be fucked,” Stan said with pure honesty. “I know it, I can see it. Do you know the way you look at Styles? You fuck him with your eyes, lad.”

“That’s my problem,” Louis said dead serious, standing up. “Plus, Harry’s not…gay.”

Stan laughed loudly, clapping his hands and throwing his head back. Even when he was drunk, he understood that Louis wanted him out of his house, so he stood up and tried to walk towards the door.

“Sure, he’s not gay." He laughed bitterly. "Sure.”

“Harry isn’t gay. Or if he’s, he’s not ready to come out yet,” Louis said, opening the door. “Please, respect him.”

“I’d respect his dick if he lets me.”

“Sometimes I wonder why we're friends,” Louis growled, pushing Stan out of his flat. “Bye, Stan, see you when you’re sober.”

“Tell Styles that he needs only a good fuck to come out!”

Louis shut the door in Stan’s face and kicked the floor with his tiny foot, angry. He hated when people say those things about Harry. He never cared about being mocked for his sexual orientation, he gave no fucks about it, but Harry was a vulnerable soul.

He turned around and found Harry leaning against the kitchen door, staring directly at him. Louis jumped when their gazes met.

“God, Haz, you almost killed me.”

“He’s right,” Harry said, straight stern. “Stan.”

“What?” Louis stuttered. He wanted to approach his friend but wasn’t sure if he could. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“I was sleeping. I heard Stan laughing, I came to check on you. And…”

“Haz, don’t listen to him.”

“I want to,” Harry said, raising his voice, and started walking towards Louis. “I want to hear him because he’s right, Lou. I’m not stupid; I see the way you look at me. Do you think I don’t notice when you’re turned on? Do you think I don’t know how many times you wanted to kiss me?”

“Stop it, Harry,” Louis said sharply, not a sight of kindness in his tone. He knew Harry was pushing because he was hurt. “We’re going nowhere with this. We’re just going to end up fighting.”

“Right! That’s what I want! Maybe we can actually have angry sex, and I can fucking tell you!”

“Geez, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Louis asked desperately, grabbing him by the arms. “You’re not this, Harry. What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

Harry shut his mouth by pressing their lips together so hard until his turned white. Then, his body shook a bit, and his face fell on Louis’s shoulder. Without a warning, he started crying loudly, his tears wetting Louis’ shirt.

Harry broke down.

“Louis, please kiss me,” he begged, his voice drowned and hurt. “Please, let me kiss you, I don’t want to spend one more day wishing for you to kiss me. I want to stop wearing your sweater when I sleep because I can’t sleepwithout you. I want to stop pretending I don’t stare at your ass when you walk away; I want to stop pretending your thin lips don’t drive me crazy. I just want to stop pretending, Lou.”

Louis rubbed Harry’s back, hearing every word. He didn’t answer straight forward because his mind was trying to process everything his boy had just told him. It was like a storm; once it started it couldn’t stop.

Harry kept shaking in his arms, crying helpless tears until Louis pushed him back a bit, wanting to see his face. _God_ , Harry was so gorgeous even with tears in his eyes.

“Harry,” Louis whispered softly and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Harry, love.”

“Please. Kiss me," he gasped, desperate. "Please."

Louis did nothing, just closed his eyes and opened his lips slightly, inviting Harry to join their lips. He felt how Harry closed in and pushed his lips against his. He didn’t move, just let the way their lips felt against each other seep into him.

So many times he dreamed for this moment, so many times wishing to be able to have this kiss. He couldn’t grasp the idea that Harry was fucking kissing him. It was all too much, too wonderful, and his chest ached with excitement, anxiety and love.

Louis sighed and felt his own eyes wet with tears because he had spent so many years loving and wanting this boy, and right now he was _all his_. Harry clutched his face with big tender hands and tilted it to one side, biting his bottom lip softly and shoving his tongue inside Louis’ mouth.

Louis gasped. In an instant he stood on his tip toes, trying to melt into the kiss, fusing so they were no longer separate entities, doing what he knew Harry and Louis were meant to do; melt into each other.

Harry’s body felt warm against his, his kisses made Louis’ heart speed up to a point he didn’t think could be reached. He fucking loved this boy.

“Let me spoon you,” Harry said, breaking the kiss.

“You’re demanding today, Styles,” Louis joked and he was surprised by how husky and low his usually loud voice sounded.

“I can’t help it. You’re like a drug; I always need more of you.”

They walked towards the couch, where they crawled together, tangled bodies and hearts tied up. Harry breathed in Louis’s scent, burying his face in his soft hair. He loved the way Louis smelled, something that reminded him of the things he loved the most.

"Haz," Louis whispered just because of the pleasure of tasting the name on his lips.

Louis pushed his body harder against Harry’s; his bum pressed against his dick, which wasn’t soft. He swallowed hard and tried to calm himself down, but Harry’s warmth and his body and his smell were all driving him insane.

Louis clutched his hand and breathed loudly. Louis was too tempted; the boy holding him with his arms was too open, too exposed to him. He licked his lips and felt the way Harry’s hand moved a bit, sliding it down. Louis didn’t stop him.

The soft touch of Harry’s fingers felt warm and tempting to his skin. Harry pressed a kiss to the back of his ear and nibbled his earlobe playfully.

"I want to touch you," he whispered, breathing hotly.

His fingertips traced the skin of Louis’ lower belly, making him shudder. Harry stopped as soon as the boy’s body shook.

Louis knew Harry didn’t want to push things, but he was desperate, utterly desperate to feel any kind of contact with the younger boy.

"Keep going, babe," he whispered, his voice going huskier.

Harry let out a soft moan and his hand quickly slid down until he was gripping the elastic of his boxer. The hardness of his dick was already too much, he needed Harry.

The boy pushed against Louis, and he felt the way Harry’s hard rock was rubbing against his ass.

Harry remained silent for a moment, trying to taste the waters. One of Louis’ hand moved until he was covering Harry’s, and finally guided him, sliding them under his boxers.

When Harry touched Louis’s hard dick, he couldn’t stop a moan. That made Louis even more turned on, who whimpered and called his name in a fucking needy voice.

"This lovely cock of yours is going to be my death," Harry muttered in Louis’ ear with a rough and manly voice. It blew Louis’s mind, who had never been this hard in his life.

Nobody made him as needy as Harry did.

"Touch me, please, Harry," Louis begged and Harry wrapped his hand around his cock.

Fuck, how good it felt. Harry’s hand was the perfect size to cover his cock completely and to rub it fast and steady; it made Louis moan embarrassingly loud.

Harry worked up and down his cock and with his free hand; he wrapped it around Louis' waist and pulled him impossibly close, desperate for any kind of friction.

"You’re wet, pretty," Harry whimpered when his thumb brushed over Louis’ cock, pre come covering it. He closed his eyes and rubbed faster, Louis’ breathing speeding up.

He started to feel the weird and pleasant sensation of his orgasm building in his belly. He closed his eyes and asked Harry to brush the head of his cock again, and minutes later he came with Harry’s name on his mouth.

"Need to get myself off," Harry said next, taking his hand back, only to bring it to his lips and lick his finger off, simply for the pleasure of tasting his boy.

"Harry, for fuck’s sake." Louis laughed when he saw through the corner of his eyes what Harry was doing.

"You taste good, Lou." Harry whimpered and rubbed his dick against Louis’s ass. He moved a bit, holding Louis by his hips until his dick was slipping in between the cheeks of the boy’s ass. He started to rock his hips in a synchronic motion, gripping his boy’s waist a bit harder.

Louis liked it; he fucking liked how Harry’s hard cock felt against his ass. He was getting hard again, yet he didn’t want to push things farther if Harry wasn’t ready.

Harry whimpered Louis’s name while the cheeks of Louis’s bum pressed against his cock. “Fuck-” Harry moaned before coming hard in his pants, gasping loudly.

Once they were both calmer and tired enough to consider falling asleep, Louis rolled around to face Harry, who cuddled him close. Louis poked his head up to join their lips in a tender kiss.

They remained lip to lip for a while, because the only thing they needed at that moment was to feel each other, and sometimes, a simple kiss could speak louder than any fuck.

"Haz, I want you," Louis said finally, breaking the kiss and resting his forehead against his. "I really, really want you."

"I’m sorry that I failed you, Lou," Harry excused himself.

Louis shook his head and kissed him again.

"Haz. This… Thing I feel for you can’t only be mine."

"It isn’t only yours, baby. It isn’t," Harry reassured. He closed his eyes and after a long time; he whispered, "I’m sorry I'm a coward."

 

 

*

 

**Super Speed**

_(Because Louis would find Harry, no matter where he was)_

 

 

After the kiss, Harry didn't change his attitude towards Louis. He was the same clingy, lovely friend who happened to love his best friend a bit too much. And that should be fine for Louis because usually friends freak out after making something sexual, fearing the relationship would go to waste. That didn't happen with Harry, but it wasn't enough.

He wanted Harry to throw everything to hell and kiss him hard and promise to be his forever.

“I assume that something happened with Harry.”

Louis raised his eyes and looked at Zayn, who was pretending to be drawing in his laptop, but who staring at Louis instead, studying his miserable state.

“No. Nothing.”

“You two fucked.”

“Zayn!” Louis shouted, shaking his head. “No, we didn't fuck. We kissed, though.”

“Finally,” Zayn said, rolling his eyes. He closed his laptop, ready to listen to Louis. “Now tell me more.”

“There’s nothing to tell you. Harry doesn’t want to come out; he doesn’t love me, whatever.”

“You love him?”

Louis sighed, crushed. He bit his lower lip, thinking about the times he had spent just loving Harry, and how he thought his love wasn’t going to stop any time soon. “You know the answer.”

“I want to hear it,” Zayn insisted.

“Yes, I fucking love him more than I love myself!” he yelled, sick. “Happy?”

“Very,” Zayn nodded, smirking triumphal.

Louis threw a piece of paper he was playing with to the floor and stared at the table without seeing it. He thought about how Harry’s lips felt against his, and unconsciously brought his fingers to his lips and slid them across, memorizing every feeling, every taste.

He was afraid he would forget how it felt, how nice, how placidly drunk he had felt when Harry had kissed him. He wanted more.

Much more.

His phone started ringing before Zayn could mock him for being such a sap. Liam was calling.

“Hey, Li,” Louis answered.

“Louis? Hey. Mate, look—” Liam sounded scared, which made Louis immediately alert. “Hum, where are you?”

“At home. What happened? Weren’t you at a party with Harry?”

“We are,” Liam nodded, stalling. “But Harry…Louis, did you know Harry was gay?”

Shit. What? How?

Louis’s mind turned blank, and he couldn’t articulate a logical sentence. He breathed deep and stood up, trying to think straight.

“What happened, Liam?”

“Harry got drunk and told the world he was gay. He came out, mate. Then he started crying and now he’s locked in the bathroom here in the bar. Nobody knows what to do.”

“I’m coming.”

“But Lou, it’s late and you’re kind of far—”

“I don’t care. Tell me the address.”

 

Zayn insisted on going with Louis, and he didn't refuse his company, he just asked him not to freak out if the car speed was a bit too much. Zayn agreed and did as he was asked: he didn't even comment when Louis sped up recklessly, knowing that he could be caught by a cop but not giving a shit about it.

When it was about Harry, he did anything under his power to reach him.

They arrived at the bar quicker than they expected to, only to find everybody there hammered and snogging with random people. Liam was waiting for Louis by the entrance and quickly made way for them with a quick talk to the guard.

“He’s crying.”

“Still crying?” Louis asked, his heart aching at the thought of his boy crying all alone.

“Still.”

Liam guided Louis among the drunken dancers and high people until they reached the bathroom stalls. It was pretty clear, except for a boy on the floor and a random couple snogging in the corner.

“Harry? Harry,” Liam called, approaching a locked stall door, trying to be as friendly as he could.

“Go away. I hate it. I hate everybody and everybody hates me.”

Harry sounded not only terribly drunk but hurt too. Louis approached the door and knocked softly.

“I don't hate you,” he whispered, silently asking Liam to stand his ground.

“Lou?” Harry asked immediately, surprised. “Louis?”

“Yes, Haz, it’s me.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Came as soon as Li called me,” he explained, looking at a worried Liam.

“He laughed at me, didn’t he? He hates faggots, and now I’m a faggot.”

“Harry, I didn’t—” Liam began, but Louis stopped him at once.

“Haz, love, Liam doesn’t hate you. Nobody hates you. Can you open the door, please? We can go home if you want.”

“No.”

“Harry, don’t be such a child.”

“Say that you love me.”

“You know I do, dork,” Louis answered, trying so hard not to look at Liam.

“No, no, but I want to hear it.”

Louis took a deep breath and shook his head as if to say; telling ‘he's a child, but I love him anyway.'

“I love you, Harry Styles. I love you forever. Can you open the door now?”

Louis heard Harry moving inside the cubicle and with a simple “kick” the door was open. He quickly stuck his head inside, and when his eyes met Harry’s, he smiled.

“Hey,” Louis said.

“I want home.”

“Let’s go home then, love.”

The way back home was silent. Harry fell asleep on the passenger seat. Zayn decided to stay at the pub with the lads; Louis was pleased because he wanted nothing but to spend the night cuddling with the boy he had at his side.

When they arrived at his flat and not without a lot of struggles to get Harry out the car, they sat in the kitchen. Louis made some coffee and gave Harry some painkillers.

“I feel awful,” Harry muttered, playing with his spoon. “This feels terrible. Coming out is awful.”

“So you did it?” Louis asked, trying not to smile because Harry wasn’t exactly proud of it, he was kind of broken.

Harry buried his face in his arms, hiding it from Louis’s sight.

“I did. By microphone. Everybody in the bar heard me.” He stood up jumpily and threw his arms into the air. “Hello, I’m Harry Styles and I like dick.”

Louis just smiled, watching Harry fondly. It made the boy doubtful; he quickly sat up again and asked, “Why are you smiling?”

“Because you did it. I’m proud of you.”

“Proud? Louis, I came out in a bar, drunk and probably not thinking about it. It was the alcohol,” Harry tried to explain, and even when he found it dreadful, Louis thought it was fine.

It didn’t matter how big or how small the steps were, he was just proud of Harry’s step.

“Can I be proud of the person I love the most?”

“Not this way.”

“Shut up, H.”

“Come here,” Harry asked, patting his lap. “I like when you sit in my lap. It makes me feel like— you’re my baby.”

Louis felt his cheeks burning up with the embarrassment of being called that, but nonetheless, he stood up and moved until he was snuggled in Harry’s lap.

“I like to be your baby,” Louis muttered, resting his forehead against Harry’s.

Harry joined their lips, kissing him gently and tenderly, feeling the way their mouths fitted onto each other. Louis wrapped his arms around his neck, and over the alcohol he could taste just Harry.

“Lou.”

“Tell me, gorgeous.”

“Remember the superhero thing?”

“You’ll never shut up about it, won’t you?” Louis mocked, stealing a quick kiss.

“Nope,” Harry shook his head. “I just wanted you to know that you’re really a superhero. My own superhero.”

“I already knew it, Haz. My mission in life is to protect you.”

“Oh,” Harry said, pleased. “And what's my mission?”

“To suck me off?” Louis teased and Harry laughed. It was a clear sign that he was finally comfortable with who he was. In any other occasion, he would have turned pale and grumpy.

“No, silly. We can discuss it later, though,” Harry said then suddenly became serious. “I think my mission in life is to love you. To love you forever, to make you feel loved.”

“I like that,” Louis said, kissing him briefly on the lips, eyes closed. “It’d make the best combo with the sucking off chore.”

“Always a sexual one, aren’t you?”

“I’m sitting on the lap of the hottest male on earth. Can you blame me?”

Harry giggled and squeezed Louis’s body in his arms, smiling with his dimples and all the happiness he had inside.

“I love you, Louis,” Harry said. “I really, really love you.”

“Finally, Harry. I was running out of superpowers,” Louis teased him, happily. “I love you too. Much, much more.”

 

 

*

 

**Life Creation**

_(Because he gave Harry a ring and twins)_

 

 

“It feels so weird to be here not for something I did,” Louis told his husband while they were sitting in the school’s main hall, waiting to be called to enter the principal’s office. “I mean, every time I was at the office I was young and always up to something.”

Harry glanced at Louis, who was awkwardly sitting in his chair. God, his hair was a proper mess; not even for a meeting with the principal did he brush it. He smirked, staring at him, wondering if he can kiss him right there, without anybody watching.

“Always the trouble maker, you,” Harry joked and looked for his husband’s hand. When their fingers intertwined, Harry felt that weird happy bubble growing inside his stomach, and wondered how a feeling could last for so long and keep growing bigger with the years.

He couldn’t understand his love for Louis, but he loved to feel it. It was the best feeling he could ever have.

“And you, everybody loved you in school,” Louis teased and leaned in to kiss his husband on the lips. “Always the charmer, you.”

The office door opened, and the husbands turned to it, finding the principal with a folder in his hand and his eyes locked on them.

“Mr. and Mr. Tomlinson,” he said and opened the way to his office. “Come on in, please.”

Harry and Louis stood up, still hand in hand, and walked into the office where they sat in front of the principal.

“Well, gentlemen, we’re here to talk about your daughter, Francesca, and your son, Leo,” he said, opening the folder and spreading the papers on the desk. “Both kids are intelligent, yet Leo is a bit— troublemaker.”

“Like his father,” Harry nodded, dead serious, and Louis did his best to hide the smirk on his face.

They talked a bit more about their grades and extracurricular activities, and when the meeting was coming to an end, the principal took a paper and offered it to them.

“This, gentlemen, is a very interesting thing. Your daughter wrote it when she was asked to write an essay about her hero. She’s a really smart girl.”

Harry’s mind traveled back to the time when he was younger and the only person he could write about was Louis. He remembered writing down all the super powers he thought Louis had; he remembered how pleased Louis was when he read the composition, years later.

He remembered and found that, after all this time, Louis still was his superhero.

They finished the meeting and walked outside the school, Harry reading the essay in silence, his eyes turning wet with every word, because he had never felt prouder than what he felt at that moment.

All those beautiful things, all those words, all those compliments his daughter offered to his dad, Louis, who was his husband and better half.

“Haz,” Louis called when they got into the car. He turned to him and reached a hand up to caress his face softly.

“This is so beautiful, Lou. Our daughter thinks so many wonderful things about you,” Harry said with an endearing voice. “Look, hear this: _my daddy can’t cook, but he always compliments my papa’s meals. I know whenever I sit to eat my daddy will tell papa “your food is great, Haz” and my papa will smile and I think that’s why my daddy is my hero: he makes papa smile like no one else can_.”

Harry laughed, pleased with the words, and looked at Louis, who was staring back at him with a serious expression.

“Lou? What’s the matter?”

“Haz, don’t you mind that Francesca had written about me and not you? God, sunshine, I don’t want you to get upset. You know how much—”

“Shh, Lou,” Harry shushed him up, placing a finger against on his lips. “Stop talking nonsense.”

“But, Haz—”

“Lou, this,” he said, raising the paper, “is the best thing that can happen to me. Because you’re a part of me, I love you with everything I am, and nothing makes me happier than knowing that our kids love you. That’s my biggest gift: to know they love you, because you deserve to be loved.”

“God,” Louis said and kissed Harry, “I love you.”

“Also, in our case, Lou,” Harry began, taking his husband’s hands and kissing them, “one plus one isn’t two. You know why?”

“Because we’re one,” Louis answered, smiling fondly at the love of his life.

“One plus one…” Harry muttered, resting his forehead against Louis’s.

“…is also one” Louis ended, finishing their talking with a soft kiss on the lips.


End file.
